


[REDACTED]

by ohmyloki



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Strip Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyloki/pseuds/ohmyloki
Summary: “I have an idea,” Bitty says.Jack raises his eyebrows, encouraging Bitty to continue.“Have you ever played strip poker?” Bitty asks, feeling the blush spreading down the back of his neck.





	[REDACTED]

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the notes from Year 3, Comic 7 ([x](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/150746647917))
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr ([x](http://bootycap.tumblr.com/post/150751930870/redacted)) I'm just super lazy at getting around to posting to ao3.

Jack’s stamina is impressive…. but Bitty would appreciate seeing it applied to something other than helping him study for French.

They manage to make it through all of Bitty’s flashcards twice before the cassoulet is done. They make it through another seven as they wait for it to cool and set the table. Then, the moment the dishes are in the dishwasher and the leftovers have been packed away nice and neat into perfectly labeled tupperware containers, Jack reaches into his pocket and pulls them out again.

“ _Jack_ ,” Bitty says, frustrated.

Jack looks back at him, all wide-eyed innocence.

Bitty huffs, rolls his eyes, and just barely avoids outright stomping on his way out to the living room where he throws himself (rather dramatically) onto the couch. He completes the whole thing with an arm artfully draped over his face. He is the picture perfect image of despair. He is the textbook definition of suffering. He is also in the midst of what his moomaw would call a ‘hissy fit’.

He feels the couch dip at his feet before Jack lifts them into his lap, where he starts to knead at one of Bitty’s heels with a firm grip. Bitty tries very hard not to moan. He’s only partially successful.

“Come on, Bits,” Jack says in a voice that Bitty already knows will be his downfall. “You’re… starting to get it?”

Bitty hears the hesitation and lifts his arm enough to peer out at Jack with one baleful eye. Jack offers him a lopsided grin and then shrugs before adding, “Kinda?”

“Ugh,” Bitty says, lowering his arm.

“Just a few more, alright? And then we can…”

Jack’s trails off, his silence speaking volumes. Thoughts of the night before immediately flare up in his mind, loud and extremely vivid. Bitty has to stop himself from squirming from the memory alone. His cheeks don’t get the message, though, and Bitty’s sure they’re a bright red by now.

Bitty’s inexperience certainly hasn’t tampered down on how he feels for Jack, physically. The downright  _lust_ Bitty feels for Jack has left him gasping for air, breathless at his own desire. Jack’s been patient and kind, knowing all about Bitty’s lack of experience, but the thing that surprised Bitty the most is how much Jack trusts him. He half expected, once Jack realized the true extent of his inexperience, that Jack might second-guess and hold himself back. But Jack had asked ‘ _Are you sure?_ ’ once, levelled Bitty with a long look, and then taken him for his word, trusting Bitty’s judgement.

And,  _oh, Lord_. Bitty had to spend a few minutes afterwards, panting and shivering against Jack’s overheated body, silently praising his own judgement as he recovered.

Bitty is still nothing remotely resembling ‘smooth’ however, and sometimes, despite the desire coursing his body, he has a hard time putting to words what he wants. And what he wants right now, with every cell in his body, is Jack naked.

Bitty bites his lip. He lifts his arm away from his face and looks at Jack, who’s sporting his own set of pink cheeks, and tries not to laugh at how awkwardly they’re both stumbling through this. He sits up, feet still in Jack’s lap, and takes a breath. Gathering his courage, he looks Jack straight in the eye.

“I have an idea,” Bitty says.

Jack raises his eyebrows, encouraging Bitty to continue.

“Have you ever played strip poker?” Bitty asks, feeling the blush spreading down the back of his neck.

Jack’s eyes go wide. “Ah, no. I can’t say I have.” His brows furrow. “Have… you?”

“Oh, gosh, no. No, I haven’t, but I just—you understand the concept, right?”

Jack nods slowly.

“What about–what if we played–” Bitty swallows, glances away briefly before looking back. “Strip studying?”

He waits for Jack to laugh at his silly idea, or to say no and that Bitty should be focusing, but to Bitty’s surprise, Jack stares at him with the same kind of intensity that Bitty saw the night before. Jack’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows.

“How would we… how would we play that?” Jack asks, his voice pitched lower than it was before.

They’ve been leaning towards each other as they spoke and Bitty realizes that if he shifts just a little bit he could probably reach Jack’s lips… Bitty’s eyes flick back up to Jack’s.

“For every flashcard I get right… you have to take off a piece of clothing.”

Jack’s lips twitch. “And what about you? Isn’t that a little unfair?”

“Whose idea was it that I study a week before classes even start? I think my suffering should be taken into consideration.” Bitty huffs.

“Right. Of course,” Jack says agreeably, smirking. Bitty narrows his eyes.

Jack reaches for the flashcards again, but Bitty touches Jack’s wrist before he can read any of them. “Socks count as one item,” Bitty insists.

Jack finally laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to cheat.” Jack looks at him, his blue eyes dark. “Trust me, I want you to succeed as much as you do.”

Bitty swallows and then clears his throat, nodding. “Okay. Okay, good.”

Bitty leans back and watches Jack sift through the flashcards. He expects Jack to pick one of the ones he was having trouble with earlier, but Jack surprises him.

“Count to ten.” Jack says.

Bitty does it with ease. Out of everything he’s tried to learn so far it’s the one thing that has managed to stick in his brain. Jack smiles at him and then carefully places Bitty’s feet back on the floor, before reaching down to take off his sock. Then he looks at Bitty and very carefully takes off his other sock. Bitty smiles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Jack sits back up and grabs another card.

“My name is Eric Bittle and I play hockey.”

Bitty squints at him, they literally  _just_ went over this one until Bitty had it right. He repeats his answer from earlier.

“Look at you,” Jack says, smiling and sets the cards on the couch before reaching down to the hem of his shirt and taking it off in one smooth move. He tosses it to the floor next to his socks and picks the cards back up.

His hair is ruffled, pieces sticking up in disarray and Bitty is so distracted by it that he forgets to appreciate the rest of the view until he sees Jack shuffling through the cards again.

Bitty’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches the muscles of Jack’s abs shift just the tiniest bit as he tries to decide on his next question. A smattering of hair on Jack’s chest leads to a long sparse line that travels down, down, down until it hits his navel and then travels even further before disappearing beneath the waistband of Jack’s shorts. There’s no way the tent he sees there is an awkward bunching of fabric or a trick of light and Bitty has to look away or he’ll never be able to focus.

Jack hums, flipping one over before discarding it. Then he smiles.

“How do you say, ‘I love you’?” Jack asks.

“Pfft,” Bitty says. “Je t'aime, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack smiles brightly and then leans over into Bitty’s space and wraps his large hand around the back of Bitty’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. Jack pauses just for a moment, just long enough to say, “I love you too, Bits,” the words warm and gentle against Bitty’s lips, before going back in to capture Bitty’s mouth with his own.

It goes from soft and sweet to hot and heavy in no time at all. Jack’s body is a pleasant weight on top of Bitty, pushing him firmly into the couch cushions. Bitty is already breathless and trying to restrain himself, trying to maintain some of his sanity against the feeling of Jack’s hard body against his. It all goes out the window when he realizes Jack is awkwardly trying to remove his shorts without ending the kiss.

Bitty breaks the kiss and says, “I  _did_  get that last one right didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Jack says, distractedly. It might have something to do with the hands Bitty’s running over his chest.

“Three for three,” Bitty says.

Jack hums before letting out a little ‘ _ha!_ ’ Bitty sees the blue fabric of Jack’s shorts join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He frowns.

“You went easy on me!” Bitty accuses.

Jack stops moving and then leans back, his weight resting on his knees between Bitty’s thighs, elbows on either side of Bitty’s head.

“Do you mind?” Jack asks, sounding legitimately concerned.

Bitty grins and says, “Absolutely not.”  Then he adds, “Now get back down here. I think I deserve a reward for being so good at French.”

Jack snickers, but does what he’s told.


End file.
